


I'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you

by girlmarauders



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarauders/pseuds/girlmarauders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 1.	Pete/Mikey, you are my favorite what-if/you are my best I'll never know</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you

The wind makes the trash in the parking lot swirl in eccentric circles where it catches on curbs and makes a horrible skittering sound, like a giant spider moving across the tarmac. It’s cold and dry and Mikey’s skin feels flaky and his bones hollow. He feels like he might blow away. 

He flips his packet of cigarettes over in his hands, pulling one out and lighting up automatically. The smoke feels dirty inside his mouth, but a good kind of dirty. He sighs. Gerard and Ray and Frank are inside the diner, getting as much as they can eat for their couple dollars. 

He flips out his phone and texts i miss you , trying not to overthink it. He stuffs the phone back into his pocket and smokes, single-mindedly, until his phone buzzes. 

i’m not far away Pete texts back. we’ll hang out when you get back

Mikey shakes himself. Pete was getting on his nerves in the morning, kept touching him and Mikey wasn’t feeling it but now he wants to be warm somewhere and to want something. Pete always has a way of making him want things. 

He smokes another cigarette, still holding his phone. He wants to text back and he keeps imagining conversations in his head, thinking through how they’ll go, how they’ll always have happy endings and no one will get upset and he won’t get twisted up inside his own head. He puts his phone away when the cigarette finishes and flicks the butt onto the tarmac, where it will probably end up in the trash swirl. 

&&&

It’s a long walk from the diner back to the venue and the buses. Ray and Gerard go back to the bus to jam, Frank wanders off to find weed and no one asks Mikey where he’s going. He goes and leans his forehead against Fall Out Boy’s bus, not on the door but next to it, and tries to psychically wake Pete up. He tests his psychic powers every day, normally on Gerard, but the bus feels warm against his cold forehead and he doesn’t want to move anymore. 

The bus door opens with the quick hiss of hydraulics but Mikey doesn’t look over. 

“Hey Mikey,” says Patrick. “You can go inside, you know.” 

Mikey nods, although it feels more like rolling his forehead over the grooves on the side of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Patrick smile gently and then shrug, before walking away. 

Mikey stares at the open bus door for a moment, feeling like he can’t move his arms, and then, when he realises he’s waited too long and maybe he’s going crazy, stumbles forward and climbs up the stairs. 

Pete is lying face up on the bus couch, eyes closed and his hands behind his head. 

“Hey,” Mikey says quietly, squaring his shoulders. Pete reacts immediately, his eyes flicking open and scrambling up and over himself to jump towards him. 

“Hey babe,” He says happily, sliding his hands around Mikey’s hips and pulling them closer. Mikey feels something like heat pool low in his belly. Pete feels warm against him, especially when his hands slide into his back pockets and their hips pull together. Pete smiles up at him, his normal infectious grin. Mikey worries sometimes he doesn’t bring much happiness to him but he thinks he only worries that at times like this, when he feels so low and empty, rather than all the time. 

Mikey leans down and touches his lips to Pete’s gently and then Pete smiles against him and surges upwards onto his tiptoes. Their teeth clack and then part when their tongues touch. Pete’s hands grasps more tightly and Mikey gasps into the kiss. 

When they part to breathe, Mikey smiles down at Pete.

“You’re so good for me,” Mikey says and slides his fingers over Pete’s shoulder blades. Pete smiles back and tightens his grip on Mikey’s ass, pulling their hips closer together.

“I think you’re pretty alright,” Pete says, with a wicked grin, reaching up to touch at Mikey’s mouth. 

Pete is hard, Mikey can feel it, but he’s ignoring it. There are places he can’t reach or things he can’t say or do. He thought it would grate at him, but he’s finding the rules somewhat comforting. The first time was hell, when he’s been drunk and high and made out with Pete behind a venue and they’d been so high neither of them could have come if they’d wanted to but they’d rubbed up against each other in the dark and moaned. 

Pete didn’t speak to him for a week after, and avoided him in between shows and ran away every time Mikey went to the Fall Out Boy bus with Frank to smoke weed. It had made Gerard angry and Mikey cry twice, because he didn’t think he’d lost a friend by getting high and making out, and then Patrick had sat down with him and had a long talk about Pete that had explained some of the misunderstanding.

Now, Mikey thinks Pete is his boyfriend, in the way you can have a boyfriend for the summer. Pete’s going to go away, or Mikey’s going to go away, but he wants to feel more of Pete’s kisses before they do. 

Mikey bends his head to kiss Pete again and Pete pushes back against it, before taking a step back to pull Mikey towards the bunk area.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Mikey says, pushing Pete back further with a kiss, because he knows what Pete’s up to, he knows Pete’s trying to get them to cuddle and then sleep, because that’s Pete’s favourite thing. 

Pete grins at him and grabs his hand to pull him into his bunk alongside him. It’s cramped and sweaty and warm, which is Mikey’s favourite way to sleep. He’s been stockholmed into it by a warm, sweaty brother who likes hugging too much. Pete fits into Mikey’s edges and ungracefully shoves a leg between Mikey’s.

“Were you and Patrick working?” Mikey asks, leaning his head forward so that his nose rests against the top of Pete’s head. Pete is rubbing his nose across the top of Mikey’s shirt, along his collarbone and chest. Pete nods.

“Yeah, good stuff.” He says, slightly muffled. “I’m jazzed.”

Mikey runs his free fingers over Pete’s back.

“It’ll be great, I can’t wait.” Mikey whispers. Pete nods again, and his hair rubs against Mikey’s nose.

Pete’s breath makes a whuffling sound against Mikey’s chest. 

“Tour’ll be over in a month,” Pete says quietly and Mikey breathes out long, lets his lungs deflate. Mikey wants to say he doesn’t want it to end; he wants to tell Pete he loves him. He imagines how it’ll play out, imagines Pete kissing him, imagines a happy ending, imagines a lot of what ifs. It doesn’t seem plausible.

“That’ll be nice.” He says instead.


End file.
